I'm Distracted

There's this guy. Really? Yeah. Really. And for a number of reasons, quite reasonable ones, actually, he is absolutely and completely unavailable to me. Which I guess is okay. So I tell myself that as long as I realize this fact it's perfectly alright to contemplate inappropriate things about him. Like what he might look like naked. Or how it might feel to be engaged in serious lip-lock with him. Or how his skin smells up close, specifically on that little area of his neck just below his ear and just above his shirt collar. This is safe, I tell myself, as long as these musings remain inside my head. I have no intention of acting on any of them, so, just for fun, I'm giving the monkeys free rein with all these little fantasies. Right now they're fueled with chocolate and hormones and they're running around like crazy, doing frenzied gymnastic maneuvers to a Frank Sinatra soundtrack. He has this twinkly-eyed thing going when he smiles. The guy, not the monkeys, we're back to him again. I have actually caught myself positioning my point of view in such a manner so that I can look at his ass! Which is fine. His ass, not the fact that I'm looking at it. And the sexiest thing that he does that nearly makes me swoon (I can't believe that I typed the word swoon!) is that he is a terrific listener. Whenever I have occasion to speak to him, he sets aside whatever he may be doing at the moment, gives me his full attention, makes clear and unwavering eye contact, and listens to me. I have noticed that when he speaks to others, the same thing happens! And if possible, the fact that he does this with others is even more appealing than when he does the same with me. On one level, that may sound deeply disturbed and voyeuristic. But that's just fine. It also makes twenty or so of the monkeys do backflips on their trampoline. For just a moment yesterday, something odd happened. We were having a conversation and for one tiny millisecond of time, I felt like he looked right through me. That he saw all the darkest thoughts running through my brain that center around him. And I felt a chill inside as though my secret had been revealed. But no. It was just my imagination. But sometimes I wonder if there really are any secrets, any really good ones, that can be kept for very long.